After the Hug
by mishmc
Summary: What happens when Sydney finds out that her father betrayed her? She goes crying to Vaughn, of course. See what might happen next... NOTE: Has spoilers for The Indicator.
1. Chapter 1

**Apres L'****étreinte (After the Hug)**

Vaughn was at a loss. Sydney was usually so tough; he'd never seen her this upset before. It felt weird holding her, letting her cry on his shoulder right in the middle of the Joint Task Force offices, where just a few hours ago people were talking, working, computers buzzing away. How ironic that he finally had the chance to hold Sydney, but in the most unromantic place he could think of, all black monitors and gray walls. He thought for a moment about what could make Sydney, that most compartmentalized of women, completely open up to him, and come to him wordless and crying. It occurred to him almost immediately; it must be her father. He instantly regretted planting the seed of her father's betrayal in Syd's mind_. Did I do this? _ 

But no, Jack is the one that betrayed Sydney's trust. Jack Bristow is the consummate cold warrior; he probably strategized in his sleep. Vaughn was sure it was easy for Jack to convince himself that setting up Sydney's mother Irina, setting up Sydney herself, was the best course of action, even the _only_ course of action, to best protect Sydney. What Sydney needs right now is a friend, he mused. With her mother in federal custody, possibly facing the death penalty for her decidedly awful crimes (real and those created by Jack), and her father, a distant man at the best of times, revealed as the man who had explosives planted to prove that Irina was not to be trusted, and almost killing Sydney and himself in the process, Sydney must be feeling very alone.

_I said I was her ally. And I am_, Vaughn thought decidedly. So here she was, in his arms, and all he wanted to do was kiss her to make the tears go away. But while an admittedly attractive option, it probably wouldn't help her in the long run. Sydney needs someone to talk to, someone neutral but caring_. And once we go down that path_, he thought ruefully, _I don't think I will be able to let go_. But a romance between agent and handler could mean not only his expulsion from the CIA, but the death of Sydney Bristow at the hands of SD-6 when they inevitable found out she was involved with a CIA employee. 

So he would hold her as long as she needed to be held, buy her coffee, listen to her while she expressed whatever she wanted to tell him. Anything to help Sydney, the most exciting, dizzying, electrifying woman he had ever met. But he would have to control himself, for both of their sakes. For both of their lives.

**********

Sydney couldn't stop crying. When she remembered the look on her father's face as she told him she would never forgive him, she felt a deep ache inside her. She had never seem him in so much pain, not even when he found out that her mother, his wife, a _KGB spy_, was still alive. But what right did Jack Bristow have to be hurt? He lied to her. All the while he was pretending to protect her, he was really protecting himself. She was his little experiment, his Baby Spy. What kind of a person trains his daughter to be a spy, and then erases her memory, only to have it churned up later, when it was too late to get out of the spy game and be normal? What kind of a man keeps a distance from his only child, even when she was alone, and hurting, and needing a father to comfort her? How excited she had been these last few months, as she and her father grew closer, as a few chinks in his armor began to show. All of the love and attention she craved as a child was finally becoming a reality as her father talked to her more, looked out for her on her missions, let her in on his plans.

Now she saw everything from a different angle. Ever since her mother reappeared, Jack had been frantic that Sydney would find out the truth. He tried to keep her away from Irina, but it must have been obvious to him that it was pointless. How can you keep a daughter away from her mother? As much of a monster as Irina Derevko, a.k.a. Laura Bristow, was, Sydney couldn't help feeling that some little part of her must love her daughter, must be like the Laura Bristow she remembered as a child. Even Vaughn had implied the same.

Vaughn. She didn't even realize that she was heading toward him as she walked through the rain. How often does it rain in Los Angeles? Sydney barely felt the water on her face, on her head as she walked through the park. She entered the security code into the dummy phone without even thinking about it. As she stood and watched Vaughn working at his computer, alone, she felt another ache. How could she have yelled at him like that? When he suggested that her father might have planted the explosives in Madagascar, she lashed out at him. She knew how much she wounded him by calling him "irrelevant". She managed to cause pain to more than one person in the last few days.  She was disgusted with herself, which only made her cry harder. 

As Vaughn turned toward her, finally seeing her after looking around as he sensed that he wasn't alone, she saw first the look of surprise, then concern, in his face. She lost all pretense of being in control of herself as she walked toward him, shoulders slumped, face turned downward to hide what must be her red nose and dripping mascara. Without question he took in his arms, and held her as she cried uncontrollably. She knew how unprofessional this was. She was supposed to be able to control her feeling, to take care of herself. But Vaughn had said he was her ally. As he held her, she knew that he was. She knew there would be no recriminations for her treatment of him, or "I told you so's". He would support her without making her feel guilty, or that she owed him anything.

He was the most decent man she had ever met. Danny was a fantastic person, but he didn't understand how hard her life was, is. _Will is such a sweet guy_, she thought, _but he can barely take care of himself._ And her father, well, she couldn't even think about her feelings for him without feeling sick. But Vaughn had always supported her, from the minute she breezed into the FBI building in her stolen red wig and told him her story. He seemed to be alternatively bemused _by_ her and worried _for_ her during the course of their professional relationship. But he never talked down to her, never condescended. He just accepted her and the complicated mess that was her life. He knew _everything_, and he still respected her, maybe even had feelings for her. _If only…_

She would have to speak; they couldn't stay like this forever (as nice as it was).  "My father, you were right all along. He did order the entrance to be wired with explosives to set up Mom. He almost killed us."

"I am so sorry, Sydney. I wish it wasn't true."

"But it gets worse." She had a hard time continuing. It was so awful that she was ashamed that her own father could so such a thing. But she forced herself, "Do you remember the project Dad was working on when my mother disappeared, Project Christmas? It turns out it was a plan to train children as spies. Here in America. And I was his guinea pig." She almost broke down again, but stopped herself before another round of tears began.

"Sydney, are you sure? I thought it was the KGB who originally came up with that idea."

"Vaughn, I'm sure. The CIA psychologist helped me remember. I remember solving the block puzzle, loading a gun. All with Dad looking on approvingly."

"You must have felt awful when you found out."

"I did. I didn't want to believe it. But he didn't deny it."

"You confronted him with this?"

"I had to. I wanted to see what he had to say for himself."

"What did he say?"

"Well," she hesitated. What _did_ he say? "I didn't give him much of a chance. But he didn't stop me. And he looked so guilty, and so, so, _sad_." The tears were welling up again.

Vaughn took her hand. It was ice cold. "Let's get out of here. You need to get warm. And dry." He fingered a strand of her wet hair as it fell in front of her face. 

Sydney smiled sheepishly. "OK, but I don't want to go home. I don't think I can face Francie and Will right now. Maybe we could go…"

"Syd, I can't take you to my place. You never know if SD-6 is watching. It's no secret I'm CIA".

Sydney looked dejected. Reality set in as she realized her life wasn't normal. It was anything _but_ normal. As Vaughn saw the look on her face, he felt terrible. Did she really need to hear this? He suddenly had an idea. It went against everything he had promised himself just a few minutes ago. But Sydney didn't deserve to be abandoned. Not again. Not by _him_.

"Hold on one sec."  He let go of her hand, and went back to his desk to use the phone. A few minutes later he was back with a smile. "I have a place we can go."

Sydney didn't hesitate. She followed him out to the garage, a long walk through tunnel after tunnel, elevator after elevator. They didn't speak. Sydney was exhausted. But at the same time, she couldn't imagine going home. At home she had to pretend. She had to pretend for Francie. And even though Will knew about her life, she couldn't really talk to him. He was still so wounded himself, wounded by coming into contact with _her_ life, her _other_ life. Walking through the garage with Vaughn, getting into his non-descript car, she felt safe. She didn't have to say anything, she didn't have to explain. She trusted him completely.

**********


	2. Chapter 2

They drove in a meandering way around the city for a while, Vaughn making sure they weren't being followed; it becomes second nature in their business. Then he headed out to the ocean, to Hermosa Beach. He knew of a friend of a friend who ran a small motel right on the beach. No surprise that there was a room available on a rainy weeknight in late fall. He turned on the radio, found an oldies station. Sydney seemed content to listen, sit back in her seat and let him do the driving.

Vaughn knew that he was entering dangerous territory here. Sydney. Nighttime. Motel room. But he would do his best to help her out, protect her, without taking advantage of the situation, of her vulnerability. It wouldn't be easy.

**********

Sydney hummed along to the Ronnettes. _"__The night we met I knew I needed you so,   
And if I had the chance I'd never let you go."_  Right. How appropriate, she thought. Of course, just about anything played on the radio (except for Howard Stern) would be appropriate. Aren't all songs about love? About longing? We long for our parents to love us, for our friends to like us. For someone to _need_ us. _I don't know if Vaughn needs me,_ she thought, _but I need him. Now more than ever. CIA rules and what comes tomorrow be damned!_

_"Be my, be my, be my little baby. Say you'll be my darling. Be my baby, now. Woh-oh-oh-oh-oh…". _ 

**********

Vaughn checked in while Sydney waited in the car. _This situation seems so seedy_, he thought. At least he wasn't renting the room by the hour. And the place was nice; simple, but nice. He chatted with his friend at the desk for a minute, then got the key and went back to the car.

"Where are we?" Sydney felt like she was waking up from a dream.

"We're in Hermosa Beach. They had a vacancy tonight at my friend's motel. I thought you might want to relax away from home and the CIA and SD-6 for a night. This is a really low-key spot, especially at this time of year. No one will bother us here".

"Do you take all of your lady friends here?" She couldn't help herself.

Vaughn grinned. "No, you're the first one. You said you didn't want to go home, so I thought of this place. I'll leave you here and get you a cab in the morning if you'd like." He prayed she wouldn't say yes to that.

Sydney was quick to answer. "No, I was only teasing you. I want you to stay. I just want to talk, and get dry, and _eat_ something".

"Yes, ma'am. One towel and 2 dinners coming right up."

They entered the room. It was cozy, but still managed to have a sitting area, a king-sized bed and a small balcony right on the beach.

"Why don't you take a shower while I get us some food. Is Mexican all right?"

"That sounds delicious. But I usually take baths, not showers." 

"I'll have to remember that." And with an arch of his eyebrows, he left the room.

**********

Sydney actually did take a shower. It felt luxurious. Hot, steamy water dripping down her face instead of cold, clammy rain. Much better. She tried not to think of Vaughn while she soaped up her hair. She tried not to think of anything. When she got out of the shower, she wrapped herself in a towel and hung up her clothes on the towel rack. _That sweater is going to take forever to dry,_ she thought. _Now what to wear?_ Somehow eating dinner in her towel with Vaughn didn't seem quite the tact to use. She certainly wanted to be closer to him, but she really wanted to eat first. Aha! Two fluffy robes hung from a double hook on the back of the door. _That's a nice touch for a motel. I wonder if Vaughn _has_ stayed here before with someone else._

But that was a pointless puzzle to try to solve. _We both have pasts. I'm sure he's had other women, probably other loves. I have too. But we are here now. Together_. She opened the bathroom door as she tied the belt around her robe.


	3. Chapter 3

Vaughn was just setting the table in the sitting area with their feast when Sydney stepped into the room. _Boy, does she look cute in that robe._ He forced himself to look her in the eye without blushing.

"Dinner is served, señorita."

"It looks great!" She sat down and dug into chile rellanos with rice. She couldn't remember the last time she had eaten anything.

After they were done, Sydney looked at Vaughn. He had taken off his jacket and tie. She could see a few hairs poking out of his unbuttoned collar. She found herself suddenly uncomfortable in their once-comfortable silence. She looked around the room. She could see the rain was letting up through the balcony doors. 

"Can we go outside? I haven't been to the beach in ages. I want to hear the ocean."

"Sure."  He grabbed a dry towel from the bathroom and dried off the balcony's two seats as best he could. 

"Have a seat."

Sydney decided to start first.  "I want to thank you for being so nice to me, for taking care of me tonight. For always taking care of me. I know you are my handler, and it's your job, but you've really gone beyond what the job calls for, and I want you to know how much I appreciate it. I am so sorry I questioned you."

"You don't have to thank me, or apologize. You life is incredibly difficult. The fact that I can be here for you, that I can help you, makes me happy."

Sydney took Vaughn's hand. For a few minutes, they just sat like that, listening to the waves as they crashed a few yards away.

"It must be nice to have a normal life. To spend the weekend at the beach with the people you care about." Sydney stopped. She couldn't help thinking about her father and how long it had been since they did anything together that wasn't _spy_-related. And about Danny, and all of their plans.

"Sydney, I know it's hard. The isolation you must feel. I feel it too. I'm not undercover like you are, but I wish things could be different too."

Sydney looked into his eyes. She saw the same longing there that she felt. She pulled him closer by the hand, and he didn't resist. 

"Michael…" She had never used his given name before.

And he kissed her, slowly at first, cautiously. But how could he resist her?  He placed his hand on the back of her head, stroking her hair as their kiss went deeper.

A few minutes later, "Sydney…" he whispered in her ear.  She held him tightly as she nuzzled in the crook of his neck.

"Michael, I have been wanting to do that for so long."

"If you keep calling me Michael I'm not going to be able to stop." Vaughn grinned, the creases of his dimples deepening. 

Sydney shivered. Vaughn realized that they were sitting out at night at the beach in late fall and all Sydney was wearing was a robe. Of course, she'd worn a lot less on some of her missions, but they were usually in warmer locales. 

"Let's go inside. You must be freezing."

Sydney didn't protest. He led her inside, and closed and locked the balcony doors.

"Sydney, whatever you want is OK with me. I want to be with you, but I don't want to take advantage of you. You're vulnerable right now. You just found out things about your father that no daughter should have to deal with. And if we go any further, I don't know how safe it can be for us. I know you can compartmentalize your feelings, but I don't know if I can with you."

"I'm finding it harder and harder lately to separate out my feelings from my work. It's all so jumbled up. But this can't be wrong. We have a right to a little happiness. Even if it's just for one night." 

She dropped her robe to the floor. Vaughn had so many feelings toward Sydney at that moment: tenderness, lust, love, protectiveness, guilt. He stopped analyzing everything for once and let himself just _feel_. And then he embraced Sydney, kissing her neck, rubbing her back softly. _Sometimes you have to let you feelings take over, _he thought as she unbuttoned his shirt._ Otherwise, what is living all about?_


	4. Chapter 4

Sydney woke up first. The sun streamed through the balcony doors. _I'm really here. In bed with Vaughn. With Michael. _That's how she had started to think of this new, tender Vaughn lying beside her, curled into her body. _Michael_. And here she was giving him a split personality: Vaughn the CIA handler, Michael the lover. _I'm the one with the split personality. I have a different one for every mission, and for every aspect of my life. But he is different. The lover is the extension of the handler – always taking care of me._  

She realized that he took care of her last night just like he always had; he gave what she needed. Last night, she needed to be loved. Today, they would need to get back to business. Back to bringing down SD-6. But maybe last night would make it a little easier to go on. She needed something to fight for.

Vaughn stirred. 

"Hey."

"Hey."

They looked into each other's eyes for a minute, seeing what was there. The longing was still there, but a contentedness was there as well. 

"Sydney, last night was, incredible. I have never felt that way before."

"I had a pretty good time, too." She giggled.

He stroked her hip. "I'm serious. You are the most important person in my life. I don't want to do anything to hurt you. We have to go back to being partners at work soon. But I want you know that last night meant a lot to me. _You_ mean a lot to me."

"I feel the same way. It's going to be ridiculously hard to look at you when we're at work without wanting to grab you and drag you behind the nearest desk. But I am so happy right now. I have something to care about besides saving the world from SD-6. I have another reason to take them down. So that I can be with you." She hoped she hadn't said too much. She didn't want to make him uncomfortable, or to leave herself too vulnerable.

"Sydney, I love you."

She sighed with relief. "Michael Vaughn, I love you too."

Sydney and Vaughn spent a bit more time in their room, but made sure to be dressed and gone before the maid arrived. Spies can never be too careful.

**********

Back on the road, back to downtown LA, back to reality.

"Where should I drop you off? I don't think it's a good idea if I bring you to your house."

"How about the UCLA main campus? I can take a quick bus home from there."

"OK. Are you going to talk to your father again?"

"Ugh, I don't even want to see him."

"But you have to, Syd. You can't avoid him, at the CIA or at SD-6."

"I know. I guess it won't be so hard to see him. He will be his normal, cold self. We'll just go back to the relationship we had for the past 20 years."

"Oh, Syd. He _is_ your father. There might be an explanation for his actions. Hard as that is to believe." Vaughn had a hard time coming up with an excuse for Jack.

"I know. And Irina is my mother. And she may get the death penalty for what he did."

"She has her own actions to explain."

"I know. Welcome to 'Life with the Bristows.'"

"What are you going to do?"

"I don't know. We have to think about this together. We don't want to expose our operation to SD-6. If Dad gets in trouble with the CIA, they will find out about it."

"Sydney, I think we have to talk to your father."

"And I have to talk to my mother."

"This is going to be a fun week."

"Well, last night was a good start." She grinned, _her_ dimples deepening, knocking him out with her smile. _She doesn't even know what she does to me._

"Back to the spy game, Agent Bristow."

"See you at the Joint Task Force offices, Agent Vaughn."

THE END


End file.
